Gotham
by G. Schumaker
Summary: Lex and Clark go visit Lex's old friend, Bruce Wayne, (during the summer between 'Vortex' and 'Heat') but their presence becomes unneccesary once an unexpected turn of events causes Bruce's life to change forever... [Finished]
1. Prologue & One: Getting There

"Gotham"

_A 'Smallville' fan fiction_

_All characters are owned by DC Comics, Warner Brothers, and their respective partners._

_'Superman' was created by Jerry Siegel and Joe Shuster._

_'Batman' was created by Bob Kane_

Timeframe: The summer between "Vortex" and "Heat" in season two

Disclaimer: I own plenty, but not these characters (not even Kaminski, not yet anyway…)

Rating: PG-13

Author's Note: Instead of having Bruce Wayne come to Smallville, I wanted Clark Kent to come to Gotham. I wanted to re-imagine Batman's origin to a very short extent. You will see many, many of the same things about Batman's past you've always heard. But if you look at it, there is room to grow in the origin of Batman, and since Smallville is all about origins, why not introduce another of the World's Finest? I'm not going to pull a JJ Abrams and make Bruce homosexual, have Alfred be a robot, or the existence of Wayne Enterprises a mere myth. I loved these characters since I was very young, starting with Batman: The Animated Series and with this fiction I am just putting the characters in different places. What if Clark Kent witnessed the murder of Bruce's parents, and who exactly was behind it? I'm only bringing you a "what if?" story that hopefully will entertain and make you happy when it ends.

_Prologue_

A town quite some distance from Smallville, Gotham City was not always the most beautiful town, but compared to what the city was like at night, the day hours were paradise. Gotham was a wounded city, riddled with bullets and pain of over a hundred years. But within the cracks in the sidewalk that was Gotham, were internet companies, furniture manufacturers, and enterprises such as that of the Wayne's. Wayne Enterprises was still young, yet very powerful nevertheless. The enterprise held the largest broadcasting television station in the nation, a nation-wide chain of banks, and even a newly founded recording company which supported up and coming artists.

            Wayne Enterprises had its flaws, though minor, that led to a sinking stock for shareholders, but was definitely being worked hard to improve. But perhaps the most major flaw, of them all, was the head of Wayne Enterprises, Gerald Kaminski. Since Thomas Wayne himself lowered his position to that of Vice President to raise a family and lower a rising blood pressure a few years back, Kaminski had not helped the enterprise whatsoever. Wayne had finally felt the need to step back up and head his company after several years of slacking sales, but Kaminski wouldn't have it. When the board of administrators finally approved Thomas Wayne to be head and CEO of Wayne Enterprises once again Kaminski stormed out and was not heard of for several years.

            As Wayne continued as CEO of his company, the stock slowly rose and profits as well. Sales were better than ever, and the genius of the Wayne family had once again brought the enterprise back from mediocrity. But while Wayne and the company may have forgotten about Kaminski, he surely had not forgotten about them…

_One: Getting There_

            The summer was getting dry and quiet; Clark was bored out of his mind in Smallville. The vacation to Coast City his parents had planned fell through after the tornado, and Chloe was off in Metropolis at the Daily Planet. Pete had gone away for two weeks with his family to stay with his Grandmother, and Lana, she was busy running The Talon. Lex had mentioned something about a trip to Gotham to meet an old friend, but Clark wasn't one to ask and Lex would ask if he thought Clark were interested.

            "Don't chop all that wood at once, son…" Jonathan startled Clark. He picked up the extra axe and started chopping.

            "Sorry, just drifting into my own little world," Clark smiled; his dad obviously noticed his boredom. Clark grabbed another piece of wood and sliced it in half.

            "You know Clark, if you're that bored, your mother and I could handle the farm for a few days if you wanted to go somewhere with one of your friends," Jonathan squinted, waiting for a response.

            "That seems impossible with every one of them either busy or go…" He was cut off by the roar of Lex's car roaring into the drive. Clark waved along with Jonathan.

            Lex swiftly walked up to them both, "Hey Clark, Mister Kent…" He smiled, "I was wondering Clark if you wanted to head off with me to Gotham, you mentioned you were getting tired of this place." Lex gazed at Clark, anticipating the answer.

            Clark looked at Jonathan, who nodded, "Yeah, how long will we be there?"

            "A week, you even get to meet my old friend Bruce, along with the inner-workings of Wayne Enterprises…"

            "Sounds good, Clark, I'll go let your mother know," Jonathan walked to the house. Clark looked around at all the wood left to chop, "When we leaving?"

            "The plane leaves at six, sharp," Lex checked his watch; it was noon at the moment.

            "Great, I'll finish my chores, pack my things, and I'll be to the mansion at five." Clark picked back up his axe, and readied another piece of wood.

            "Good, see you then…" Lex walked back down to his car and sped off, blaring music as usual.

            "This should be interesting…" Clark sighed.

            "Master Bruce, I'm terribly sorry, but you're going to be late if you don't get up soon…" Alfred smiled; he had gone through this too many times to even care.

            "Sorry, Alfred, it was a late night…" the handsome man threw off the covers of his bed.

            "As usual," Alfred grinned, "I will ready your breakfast and let your father know you'll be arriving shortly. He walked out of the room and closed the door behind him.

            "I ask for an alarm clock, my father gets a butler…" Bruce sighed to himself. He got up and ready for work, leading him into the kitchen for the usual breakfast of strawberry toast, an egg muffin, and a glass of milk. "This is delicious, Alfred," Bruce smiled, it really was.

            "I aim to please," Alfred smiled, as he always was, "I told your father you would arrive by noon, I suspect you'll be going quickly?"

            Bruce grabbed the last piece of toast and started off for his garage. Alfred cleaned the dishes as he listened to the quiet roar of Bruce's car speeding off, and then screeching to a halt. He dropped the dishes back into the sink and rushed out to the driveway to see what had happened.

            "Alfred, call an ambulance!" Bruce yelled from far away. Alfred didn't reply, just ran off back to the nearest phone in the garage to call for help. While he was concerned, the curiosity as to what happened burned in his mind.

            Thomas Wayne, Bruce's father and CEO of Wayne Enterprises, was not happy with what was going on. Not happy at all.

"You hit him?" Thomas asked, glaring through Bruce.

            "No!" Bruce roared, "He leapt out in front of me, like suicide or something!" Bruce was telling the truth, but he knew many people wouldn't believe it.

            "Just be glad he's going to survive, that is, if the operation goes well…" His father eyed him, "…and even after that he may be paralyzed!" Thomas threw up his arms.

            "It's not my fault," Bruce shrugged, "if he wouldn't have been snooping around our property and leaping out in front of fast moving objects…"

            Thomas cut him off, "And maybe if we hadn't bought you that Lamborghini!"

            "I wasn't speeding, that much…" Bruce smirked for a moment, but this was no laughing matter. The papers would get a hold of this, then the tabloids, and once again try to destroy the Wayne name.

            "This man is a good worker; he works in marketing a couple floors under me, why would he be snooping around his boss's home?" Thomas calmly asked, "It makes no sense."

            "Perhaps that is the point…" Bruce speculated; gazing out the window as the small sparrows hopped around on the tree branches. His father had already had many assassination attempts on him, and this would not surprise him if this was another. Maybe a part of something bigger, but he didn't have time to think about it right now.

            "Well, Bruce, let's just go to work and see what happens throughout the day, hopefully this will just be a small inconvenience…and we will all go visit Bill after the operation tonight to see how he is and give him our well wishes."

            "Okay, sounds nice," Bruce smiled; this was going to be a long day. He got up and went with his dad to his car, and flew off into the city praying the situation would not get any worse. But Bruce somehow forgot in the midst of all the commotion that his old friend would be arriving later that night…


	2. Two: Psychopath Afternoon

"Gotham"

_A 'Smallville' fan fiction_

_All characters are owned by DC Comics, Warner Brothers, and their respective partners._

_'Superman' was created by Jerry Siegel and Joe Shuster._

_'Batman' was created by Bob Kane_

Timeframe: The summer between "Vortex" and "Heat" in season two

Disclaimer: I own plenty, but not these characters (not even Kaminski, not yet anyway…)

Rating: PG-13

Author's Note: Instead of having Bruce Wayne come to Smallville, I wanted Clark Kent to come to Gotham. I wanted to re-imagine Batman's origin to a very short extent. You will see many, many of the same things about Batman's past you've always heard. But if you look at it, there is room to grow in the origin of Batman, and since Smallville is all about origins, why not introduce another of the World's Finest? I'm not going to pull a JJ Abrams and make Bruce homosexual, have Alfred be a robot, or the existence of Wayne Enterprises a mere myth. I loved these characters since I was very young, starting with Batman: The Animated Series and with this fiction I am just putting the characters in different places. What if Clark Kent witnessed the murder of Bruce's parents, and who exactly was behind it? I'm only bringing you a "what if?" story that hopefully will entertain and make you happy when it ends.

_Two: Psychopath Afternoon_

            Lex hated flying. He had since he was a little kid. He admired Clark's ease and relaxed attitude when flying. It was as if Clark didn't realize they were thousands of feet off the ground.

            "Were you born on a plane?" Lex whispered.

            "I don't think so…why?"

            "Nothing really, I'd think a farmer boy would be afraid of flying."

            "You can't be afraid to fly, Lex…"

            "Do you notice me moving around?" He laughed.

            "Never mind," Clark laughed, "We're about to land."

            "That's my favorite word," Lex smiled. The plane swooped down and smoothly applied itself to the runway, a perfect landing. It was required to be perfect, for how much Lex was paying the two pilots. The two got up, followed by some assistants, and hopped into Lex's conveniently parked car next to the plane. Lex left the assistants behind, they could find their own way to grovel at his father's feet.

            "Oh Brucey, line two," his perky assistant cried through the glass cubicle. Bruce's office was large, with many rooms. He was not one to be pent up in a cubicle, and his father knew what his son liked when he designed the building.

            "Thanks," he picked up the phone.

            "She sounds good looking."

            "If you only knew," Bruce laughed.

            "We're on our way up."

            "We?"

            "My friend Clark, you'll like him."

            "Good, and do I have some stories to tell y-"He was cut off by the door opening.

            "Do tell," Lex smiled, clapping shut his phone like any good business man would.

            Bruce got up and walked over, "So this is Clark?"

            "Clark Kent," Clark smiled, shaking Bruce's hand.

            "I met him when I moved to Smallville, he saved my life."

            "Well, that's always a good relationship builder," Bruce smirked, "Have a seat guys…anything to drink?"

            Both Lex and Clark declined. Clark sat and gazed at all the fabulous computer equipment.

            "Now on with the story," Bruce frowned, "mornings suck."

            "Is that the title?" Lex felt free to be a smart ass, since he knew Bruce would send it right back his way."

            "I've got a couple; maybe I should check the tabloids tomorrow and see what they've got as well." Everyone laughed, "But seriously, I was taking off for work…"

            "In the Lamborghini…" Lex added.

            "Of course," Bruce smiled, "And before I got beyond the property line and entry gate one of my father's workers jumped out in front of me!"

            "Suicide?" Clark wondered, he was convinced Chloe was with him in spirit.

            "I'm guessing," Bruce turned and gazed out the window, "But still, there was no reason for him to do it."

            "How's his family life?" Lex queried.

            "Great, and I checked the records, he gets a very nice paycheck," Bruce looked back at them, "We're going to go visit him later."

            "Do you think he'll tell you why?" Clark shuffled in his chair.

            "I doubt it, usually when a person goes insane, they stay insane."

            "Maybe someone made him do it…" Lex sighed.

            "Seems likely, Lex, but hopefully it is just another severely annoyed worker trying to destroy my family's name."            

            "That's a hard name to destroy; it would take more than one person." Lex stared, losing himself in thoughts.

            "You seem to know a lot about this sort of thing, Lex." Bruce smiled.

            "It happens." Lex smirked.

            "Well, I say forget about it for now, and let us go show Clark around," Bruce sighed, calmingly getting up and leading the two to the door.

            "Barbara," Bruce called to his secretary, "I'll be back to the office by five."

            "Don't get those two in any trouble," She reminded him, "Because you're such a bad person, you know." She jokingly laughed.

            "Yes mother," he chuckled.

            "She is beautiful." Lex couldn't help but stare at her as they walked out of Bruce's office.

            "She's thirty."

            "I like a challenge."

            Hospitals didn't take kindly to shady figures.

            "Your relation to Bill?" the nurse snobbishly asked.

            "I'm his brother." The man smiled.

            "Great, ID?" She definitely needed coffee.  
            The man handed her the ID, smiling the biggest he could get it. He knew Bill didn't have a brother, but Gotham General obviously didn't.

            "Wonderful," She groaned, "Room 702." She sloppily pointed to her left, when 702 was to the right hallway.

            "Thanks," he smiled, leading himself down the long hallway.

            The door creaked open; Bill was unconscious from the drugs. He looked up at the heart monitor, and the bags of liquid hung next to his head.

            "Bill, Bill, Bill…" The man grinned, "You could make any psychopath a very happy man." He pulled up a chair next to Bill's bed.

            Bill cracked open his eyes, "Kaminski…"

            "Now, don't sound bitter," Kaminski shrugged, "Tomorrow all your family's debt will be gone."

            Bill's eyes flooded with tears, "Thank you…"

            "No, thank you," Kaminski was as thankful as the Puritan who founded Gotham City. "Bill, your role in my plan was critical, you did above the average."

            "I do what I can," he managed a smile.

            "I hope your operation goes well…and try and think of a good lie to the police…" Kaminski glared, "Tell them the Riddler is at his mind controlling again?" He didn't really care, as long as Kaminski wasn't mentioned.

            "Don't worry," Bill smiled, closing his eyes again.

            "Riddle me this…" Kaminski silently mocked Riddler, streaking off the train of thought, "Good luck Bill." He got up and walked out the door, leaving no trace of his visit.

            "Have a nice day Mr. Kaminski." The nurse at the desk called out. He barely heard her, and just waved.

            "Riddle me that…" he smiled.


	3. Three: A Pinch Of Paranoia

"Gotham"

_A 'Smallville' fan fiction_

_All characters are owned by DC Comics, Warner Brothers, and their respective partners._

_'Superman' was created by Jerry Siegel and Joe Shuster._

_'Batman' was created by Bob Kane_

Timeframe: The summer between "Vortex" and "Heat" in season two

Disclaimer: I own plenty, but not these characters (not even Kaminski, not yet anyway…)

Rating: PG-13

Author's Note: Instead of having Bruce Wayne come to Smallville, I wanted Clark Kent to come to Gotham. I wanted to re-imagine Batman's origin to a very short extent. You will see many, many of the same things about Batman's past you've always heard. But if you look at it, there is room to grow in the origin of Batman, and since Smallville is all about origins, why not introduce another of the World's Finest? I'm not going to pull a JJ Abrams and make Bruce homosexual, have Alfred be a robot, or the existence of Wayne Enterprises a mere myth. I loved these characters since I was very young, starting with Batman: The Animated Series and with this fiction I am just putting the characters in different places. What if Clark Kent witnessed the murder of Bruce's parents, and who exactly was behind it? I'm only bringing you a "what if?" story that hopefully will entertain and make you happy when it ends.

_Three: "A Pinch of Paranoia"_

            "And that concludes the grand tour of the ever expanding…Wayne Enterprises," Bruce smiled, as the three men gazed over the balcony of the main lobby of the building. The building was a technical marvel, and the lobby's atrium expanded seventeen floors. Clark looked over at Lex, whom seemed squeamish as he looked over the edge.

            "What a wonderful place you have here," Lex turned from the ledge; "Want to merge?" he jokingly shrugged.

            "I doubt papa Luthor would approve…" Bruce reminded, "One day this will all be mine, then maybe I'll think about it…" he laughed.

            Bruce was interrupted by his cell phone, a text message from Barbara popped up, reminding him to get back to the office.

            "I'll meet up with you two at the manor around eight, I'm sure we can find a nice place to have dinner."

            "Sounds great," Lex glared, turning to Clark, "Stare over that ledge any longer and you might make _me sick."_

            Clark quickly turned, "Sorry, I can't help but feel somewhat out of place here."

            "Somewhat? Come on Clark, I'm not expecting you to feel at home here, and even I'm feeling a little out of place."

            "Well, beats the chores," Clark was lying through his smile; chores were of no concern to him, well, not often.

            "Of course, let's go find trouble, shall we?"

            "We shall," Clark smiled; they were finally getting out of that mammoth enterprise. They both strode into the elevator and into parking garage 2B where Lex's beautiful sports car awaited.

            "You want to fit in Clark? I know just the place…"

            The gray rusted walls of the Gotham housing facilities in the failed projects of suburban Gotham City would have been a great place for Kaminski to run his operations. But Kaminski was not the average psychopath. He'd rather hide out in the rusted golden walls of the Gotham clock tower; no one ever went up there anyway.

            "No, I need you to do this tonight!" He yelled into the phone.

            "You've got an attitude Kaminski," the man on the opposite end of the line calmly reminded him; he was a calm person with all the values of the everyday man….except he killed people for decent pay.

            "Well, when I offer you as much as I have and you pull out the day of…"

            "It is not my fault the wife had to go into labor today."

            "Oh?" Kaminski quietly chuckled, "Then you won't have any problem…"

            "What do you mean?"

            "…They're going to visit him tonight, getting them out of the way shouldn't take you away from your wife for too long…" his chuckle grew to a calm laugh.

            "Well, then I expect payment in my mailbox tomorrow morning…"

            "But of course," Kaminski grinned, forgetting to mention that if all three of the Wayne clan weren't killed, cash would be the least of worry in the assassin's mailbox.

            "Expect them around six; they'll be walking together like any good family would, understand?"

            "Completely."

            "Have fun," Kaminski laughed as he heard the phone click off. _"I will be a legend."_

            "This is too tight," Clark struggled to take off the suit jacket, "I'll try the gray one."

            "Clark, we don't have all night, just pick out one and get it every color." Lex stopped himself, "I'm beginning to talk like my father."

            "Don't worry," Clark smiled, "So am I… This one's perfect."

            "Great," Lex turned and signaled to the clerk, "And don't worry about the bill, my treat."

            "My dad would kill-"

            "Your dad's not here."

            "Well no," he was interrupted by the assistant handing him three colors of each suit. Each separately bagged firmly pressed.

            "We'll stop by the penthouse so you can change."

            "Lex, I don't think you should be doing this for me."

            "Right, you are _becoming your father," Lex smiled, "Accepting a little help here and there is no eternal sin, especially when you're in Gotham."_

            "You're right."

            "When am I not? Don't answer that." He turned and motioned for Clark to follow him, and the journey through Gotham continued to Lex's penthouse, the same penthouse his mother would sometimes escape to when life got crazy.

            "My mother used to joke that the only thing place needed was an in-house therapist."

            Clark looked around, "This is…"

            "Exquisite? My mother had much better taste than my father, and she even spent less."

            "Seeing as she didn't import a castle brick by brick, I can see your point," Clark ran his fingers along the wall.

            Lex glanced at his watch, "Better get changed, the spare bedroom is down the hall and to the left corridor."

            "I want a corridor at my house…"

            "I still can't believe you hit him," Martha sighed, "the tabloids are going to have a field day." If there was one thing Martha Wayne needed, it was another annoying Barbara Walters interview about her family.

            "Mom, for the last time, he jumped out in front of me." Bruce was always annoyed by his mother's concerned ignorance and avoidance of the complete truth. 

            Thomas clapped his phone shut, "That was Bill's doctor, and it was a very successful surgery."

            "Oh that's wonderful," Martha sighed full of relief, "Have the police gotten any answers from him…?"

            "Why do you think we're going to visit him, mom?" Bruce looked at her. They walked into the busy seventh floor and up to the still annoyed nurse at the desk.

            "Good evening Mr. Wayne," she gleefully smiled, "Bill is relaxing and awake in 702."

            "Tell me, has he had any visitors?" Thomas stared deep into her eyes.

            "Kaminski was here." She frowned, flapping the papers on her clipboard.

            "Gerald Kaminski?" Martha gasped.

            "Yes, but we haven't yet determined if he actually has a relation to Bill," the nurse sighed, "He claimed to be his brother."

            "That's quite strange," Thomas looked down; he was frightened by this news.

            "The police were told, and they are doing everything to determine exactly why he was here, I assure you Mr. Wayne, the police are watching this case very closely…"

            "Thanks for the reassurance, though lacking, I'll take it," Thomas forced a smile.

            "Enjoy your visit," the nurse replied."

            "We'll try…" Bruce coughed.

            They walked down the same hallway Kaminski had hours earlier, down to room 702, not noticing the man patiently eyeing them from a seat on the lobby.

            Martha was first through the door as she strode over to the bed, and silently greeted Bill. Bruce and Thomas followed, Bruce pulled up three chairs next to the bed, as Bill shuffled and peered over above his neck brace.

            "I'm so sorry…" he cried.

            "We are quite dumbfounded by this, Bill, and we are truly sorry…but we have many questions…" Thomas glared.

            Martha took Bill's hand, "We just want to know…why?" Bruce just quietly stared, watching his mother work her motherly magic.

            "The night before…" Bill whispered, "I was woken up by a knock on the door. If I remember right it was around one in the morning," he paused to catch his breath. "Now, I remember a figure in the doorway, with some sort of device…the outfit he was wearing was green or…black." He paused again and looked around, "I thought it was that guy you hear about, you know, that Riddler guy?" Everyone nodded, "He shot some sort of ray at me, some green ray powered by some greenish rock on the top of the gun. I was blasted to the floor and the next thing I know I'm in a blurry trance outside your manor…jumping out in front of Bruce's car…"

            "That sounds like mind control at its very best," Bruce chimed in, looking at his father.

            "We know Kaminski came and visited you, could he have anything to do with this?" Martha glared at Thomas for the blunt question.

            Bill stopped, improvisation after surgery was no fun task, "Gerald and I go way back, he showed me the ropes at work."

            Thomas just nodded, "Well, we'll aid you in anyway, whether it be financial or what not, it was obviously not you in our drive." He got up, "Ready?" they both nodded, "Good luck Bill, I'll contact you in a few days."

            "Good luck, Bill…" Bruce sighed.

            "Best wished," Martha slowly let go of his hand.

            Thomas dashed into the hallway followed by his family; the business man was working overtime. He steadily walked forward, not bothering to turn and speak. "He's lying…"

            "I don't think so Tom…"

            "Kaminski is behind this, I knew I should have had him taken care of years ago!" He stopped himself, realizing he was getting too loud.

            "This "riddle guy" has been in Arkham for years now, and there has been no word of his escape, mom…" 

            "But he seemed so sincere…" She crossed her arms.

            "Come on, we have to get out of here." Thomas looked around.

            "And go where?"

            "Somewhere we can't be easily found; I'll call Commissioner Gordon, Martha, call Alfred and tell him to pick us up at the front door."

            "I'm meeting Lex and Clark for dinner at eight…"

            "Well, son, safety is a better option at this point; god knows what Kaminski has plans for next…"

            "Thomas, are you saying this whole mess was merely a trap?"

            "That's sick," Bruce glanced around the room.

            "He _is a psychopath."_

            They split up to perform their separate tasks, as the assassin sitting in the lobby held his phone to his ear, listening…waiting…

            "Go time."


	4. Four: Labyrinth

"Gotham"

_A 'Smallville' fan fiction_

_All characters are owned by DC Comics, Warner Brothers, and their respective partners._

_'Superman' was created by Jerry Siegel and Joe Shuster._

_'Batman' was created by Bob Kane_

Timeframe: The summer between "Vortex" and "Heat" in season two

Disclaimer: I own plenty, but not these characters (not even Kaminski, not yet anyway…)

Rating: PG-13

Author's Note: Instead of having Bruce Wayne come to Smallville, I wanted Clark Kent to come to Gotham. I wanted to re-imagine Batman's origin to a very short extent. You will see many, many of the same things about Batman's past you've always heard. But if you look at it, there is room to grow in the origin of Batman, and since Smallville is all about origins, why not introduce another of the World's Finest? I'm not going to pull a JJ Abrams and make Bruce homosexual, have Alfred be a robot, or the existence of Wayne Enterprises a mere myth. I loved these characters since I was very young, starting with Batman: The Animated Series and with this fiction I am just putting the characters in different places. What if Clark Kent witnessed the murder of Bruce's parents, and who exactly was behind it? I'm only bringing you a "what if?" story that hopefully will entertain and make you happy when it ends.

_Four: Labyrinth_

            Lex stared at his phone's screen, head resting on his fist.

            "Only a Wayne would be late and not bother to call."

            "Alfred was here to let us in, I'm thankful for that," Clark sighed, "The forecast called for rain."

            Lex jumped, dropping the phone as it rang out. Clark bent over and handed it to him, stretching back out on the clad leather sofa.

            "Bruce?" Lex straightened the phone to his ear.

            "Lex, can you never leave the past behind you?"

            Lex groaned, "It's not my fault you think of the Wayne's as competitors…"

            "Competitors, very funny, don't get too fond Lex. The minute that spawn of Thomas hears you have your own company…"

            "Dad, I know what I am doing, now have some faith." He clapped the phone shut. His father may have been blind, but his knowledge was in no way affected. Maybe Lionel was right about Bruce, but it was only a week, and Bruce wasn't even informed of LexCorp, nor did he care.

            "Your dad has great timing."

            "Well, in that case, so does Bruce."

            Lex jumped again as the phone rang, he decided to jump up and tend to the fire in the fireplace.

            He flipped open the phone, "Bruce?"

            "Yeah, going to have to cancel tonight Lex, you're better off going back home…"

            Lex looked at Clark with a concerned glare, "What's going on?"

            "In brief, the ex-CEO of Wayne Enterprises went psycho and is out to kill my father, he even used Bill to just get all three of us out in the open. Of course my dad is planning to ship us out of here in the next hour or so…" Bruce struggled to hold on to the phone he was shaking so badly as he walked through the halls of the hospital.

            "Is there anything I can do?"

            "Just leave, I'll call you in two days to let you know how the situation stands."

            "Okay, well, it has been entertaining."

            "Yeah, talk to you soon…" Bruce clapped the phone shut, looking up spotting his father and mother whispering at the other end of the hallway. He ran down to them, finally realizing that the past ten years of self defense may finally have their chance to shine.

            "Alfred's stuck in traffic with the car," Thomas never stopped looking around, "We're going to have to walk to the parking garage to get a car..."

            "Mine's back at work, not too long of a walk," Bruce reassured, confident they could make it unharmed.

            "Good, we can do this; we'll just head down some dark alleys and try not to look obvious." Thomas put his arms behind Martha and Bruce, "Let's go."

            "They are leaving, you better follow them…" Kaminski whispered into the com-link.

            "I need not be told as a child, they will be out of the picture soon enough…" The assassin re-adjusted the ear piece, so that Kaminski wouldn't sound so loud.

            "By the way, congratulations…"

            "Thanks, I look forward to getting back to my wife as soon as possible, Kaminski."

            "And you will, because you work fast, that's why I am paying you," Kaminski managed an insane little chuckle.

            "Save the laughs for the comedy club, it hurts my ear…"

            "Understandable," Kaminski was sure everything would go just as planned.

            "I'm heading out; I have my two contacts standing by as well, so you can end those hacks of the hospital's security cameras now."

            Kaminski didn't bother to turn off the screens, but just kept listening, "Make me proud."

            "What are you, my father?"

            "No," Kaminski chuckled, "That would make the plot more complex than it already is."

            "Of course."

            "We can stay at the penthouse for the next three days, it's a big city, we can find something to do," Lex picked up his jacket and keys, "Let's get out of this place." Clark just got up and followed him out to the drive, the clouds were overhead and rain was beginning to fall.

            "Wonderful," Clark sighed, catching a drop in his hand as he lowered himself into the car.

            "Gotham can get very strange at night; I'll try to avoid…anyone."

            "How strange?"

            "Stranger than Smallville, I can tell you that."

            Clark strapped on his seatbelt, a minor discomfort for him with no actual need, although being thrown through a windshield wasn't fun for anyone, even him.

            "You should wear a seatbelt…"

            "I should," Lex started the engine, "But I'm the one who paid off every representative to not support the law." He pushed on the gas and sped the car out of the drive, surrendering both him and Clark to the chaos of Gotham's night life.

            "Rain…wonderful," Martha whimpered, grasping onto Thomas's hand. No one responded, they just kept walking at a steady pace. Thomas pointed in the direction of a very thin alley, and no one doubted him. Thomas grew up on these streets and knew them better than most

            "We'll be there in fifteen minutes," Thomas yelled, "It is too cold for summer…"

            "I'd rather not be the victim of a gruesome assassination, tonight, thank you very much," Bruce had a sick sense of humor that always shined in intense moments.

            "I believe you speak for us all, son."

            Martha stumbled and tripped, falling face first into a puddle. They two men quickly helped her back up, but amidst the confusion Bruce didn't realize his keys dropping from his jacket pocket. He hated that jacket.

            "You okay?" Bruce wiped some mud off her jacket.

            "Yeah, my knee hurts, but I'll survive."

            Thomas pointed another direction, another alley, it was as if Gotham was becoming the Labyrinth and all they needed were wings to fly out; the Minotaur constantly gaining a closer distance…

            Kaminski's assassin was far too tired for this.

            "Think of the money, the glorius money," he whispered to himself, interrupted by the awful puddle Martha had fallen in just minutes before. He groaned and shoved himself back up; something had poked him on his elbow. He got up dripping wet, in the now pouring rain, kicking around for a needle or knife that had poked him. Finally the tip of his boots met Bruce's keys, and they flew out and smacked the side of the brick building before him.

            "Aw, they left me a gift," he kneeled down and picked them up, examining all ten keys on the ring. He shoved them in his pocket, trying as hard as he could to stay on the family's trail.

            "Where are they now?" He asked into his mini-microphone.

            "6th and Park, you want us to go in?"

            "No, I can catch up." He turned to get up, but was hit by a metal garbage can and knocked out onto the ground.

            "No, you won't…" Clark Kent, always there when you need him, sighed and ripped the assassin's microphone off his jacket, "Who is there?!"

            "Shit. We better go out," He heard a voice say from the miniature device. But Clark couldn't hear Kaminski roaring into the assassin's ear, "Do you copy?! If you bailed…Do you copy!?"

            Clark, like any good snoop, checked the assassin's jacket, stumbling upon the keys, instantly recognizing them from Bruce's desk, "Perfect." He shot up and with cautious speed and x-ray vision tried to track the Wayne clan down. He nearly caught up to them.

            Nearly.


	5. Five: Harmonic Downfall

"Gotham"

_A 'Smallville' fan fiction_

_All characters are owned by DC Comics, Warner Brothers, and their respective partners._

_'Superman' was created by Jerry Siegel and Joe Shuster._

_'Batman' was created by Bob Kane_

Timeframe: The summer between "Vortex" and "Heat" in season two

Disclaimer: I own plenty, but not these characters (not even Kaminski, not yet anyway…)

Rating: PG-13

Author's Note: Instead of having Bruce Wayne come to Smallville, I wanted Clark Kent to come to Gotham. I wanted to re-imagine Batman's origin to a very short extent. You will see many, many of the same things about Batman's past you've always heard. But if you look at it, there is room to grow in the origin of Batman, and since Smallville is all about origins, why not introduce another of the World's Finest? I'm not going to pull a JJ Abrams and make Bruce homosexual, have Alfred be a robot, or the existence of Wayne Enterprises a mere myth. I loved these characters since I was very young, starting with Batman: The Animated Series and with this fiction I am just putting the characters in different places. What if Clark Kent witnessed the murder of Bruce's parents, and who exactly was behind it? I'm only bringing you a "what if?" story that hopefully will entertain and make you happy when it ends.

_Five: Harmonic Downfall_

            Two bodies, two men, one was fallen face first, the other kneeling over a pile of trash. Clark tried to make sense of the situation from the far distance he was at. The sound of the two gun shots ringing in his ear.

            "Those are the men who were on the microphone," he whispered, seriously, Chloe was with him.

            The rain fell, buckets falling in a symphonic rhythm, in desperation to clean the sin of Gotham. Clark squinted through the rain and his dripping hair; it was Bruce and his family, standing at gun point. Was that…? That was the ex-CEO guy that Clark had overheard Bruce saying on the phone, holding a gun. He had to stop this…but how? He knew he couldn't just speed up there and stop everything, catching the countless bullets the psychopath would undoubtedly shoot off. Lex…but he was asleep, and he didn't know the phone number to the penthouse.

            Clark was sure someone had already heard the gunshots and called the police, so he kneeled behind a trash dumpster, and peered around the corner. He silently gazed, watching in suspense.

            "You don't want to do this," Thomas confidently sighed, not moving, never taking his eyes off Kaminski's.

            "Oh, you have no idea how long I've wanted to do this," Kaminski roared, laughing, then pulling out a stick of gum.

            "Citrus, got a hot date?" Bruce grudgingly asked.

            Kaminski shuffled and pointed the gun towards Bruce, "I've already killed those two," he pointed the gun over to the assassin's backup, "What makes you think I won't kill you?"

            "Because those two don't, wait, they _never mattered to you," Bruce roared, "We can give you whatever the hell you want!"_

            "No, your father's company _did give me everything I wanted…" Kaminski broke down into an insane cry, "But your father!" He pointed the gun at Thomas, "Took all of it away!" He kept the gun on Thomas, observing Martha's strong hold on Thomas's jacket._

            "You may kill us, but you won't destroy the company," Martha wanted to make that clear, for she really wasn't sure what he was after.

            A bolt of lightning bolted across the sky, crackling as Kaminski began to laugh, "You think I care about the company? All I care about is your absence!"

            Bruce nodded, "Funny, same thing I was thinking…"

            "What?" But it was too late, Kaminski felt the wrath of Bruce's wicked fist and fell straight to the muddy wet cement, his gun flying from his hands and crashing into the side of the grey brick building to their left. Bruce managed to kick Kaminski in the head all the while jumping over to grab the gun. He picked it up and pointed the barrel at Kaminski. Martha and Thomas were dumbfounded by their son's agility, and proud of it.

            Kaminski lifted his thumb to his nose, looking down at the blood, slowly opening his jaw as to see if it still was working, "You arrogant little boy." He quickly turned his head at the sound of sirens in the far off distance.

            "Oh thank god," Martha cried, holding onto Thomas.

            Kaminski jumped up, "There is no god!" and another bolt of lightning crashed just feet above them, striking a power line causing a rain of sparks to tumble from the sky above. He looked up as the sparks bucketed down with the rain, smiling as if finally at peace. Bruce held the gun even more tightly, moving toward Kaminski, "Don't move."

            "Don't move," Kaminski mimicked Bruce, kicking him in the shin. Bruce fell face first, but before hitting the ground, his face met Kaminski's steel toe boot. Bruce gasped for air, everything went black.

            Kaminski grasped the gun from Bruce's hands, as Thomas jumped trying to grab it as well. Thomas fell back as Kaminski elbowed him in the throat, pointing the gun at Martha.

            Clark, startled by the sudden move, felt the need to finally intervene. He jumped up, at the same time hearing a bullet release from Kaminski's gun. Everything slowed down around him as he ran up in front of Martha, catching the bullet dead in his palm. Kaminski looked around, "What the hell?"

            Bullet after bullet rained from Kaminski's gun as Clark blocked all of them, picking him up by the throat and throwing him into the grey brick building. The sound of sirens sounded extremely close. He ran over to Bruce, looking around as Martha helped up Thomas.

            "How did you…?" Martha stared down at Clark, utterly amazed.

            Clark just ignored the question, "He's out cold…" He looked up, and jumped at the sight of the assassin standing with his gun pointing directly at Martha, "Watch out!" His words rang through the air as Martha turned around and screamed.

            But Clark was too late, too slow. The bullet from the assassin's gun cut through the air and hit her in the chest, knocking her to the cold and wet, stony ground. Clark ran to the assassin as the second bullet slipped out to Thomas, whom tried to run, but was struck in the stomach and knocked to the ground, feet from his wife.

            "No!" Clark screamed, punching the assassin in the chest, causing him to fly over right next to Kaminski. But he couldn't stay. He couldn't be known to have been here. He had to run. And he did.

            The police ran down the alley with their flashlights singeing the pouring rain, Clark strategically avoided them using his x-ray vision. He made it back to the penthouse safely, undetected, even with the luck of Lex not being awake.

            "This is not good," a woman officer sighed, "that's the Wayne family."

            "Oh holy Jesus," a young officer standing next to her cried, he picked up his radio and called for an ambulance. He pointed to the third officer, the rookie, "Go check for witnesses, evidence, you know the routine…right?" he squinted.

            "Yes sir," The rookie looked around, worriedly, suddenly realizing that this job was not for him.

            "That's the last one," the woman officer slightly smiled to the paramedic, "Good luck." The paramedic shoved the stretcher cradling Kaminski into the ambulance as he moaned with pain. The rain had finally stopped, the clouds were slightly broken and the sun was finally peeking over the horizon.

            She sipped her coffee, gazing at the rookie officer, "Dave, relax, these things happen."

            "Come on Michelle, two assassins alive, two assassins dead, two of the most powerful people in Gotham dead, and their _son the only one to walk away with minor bruises." He set down his coffee and checked his watch._

            "Well, their son must have a good story to tell. If those two assassins weren't dressed and full of, well, obvious assassin materials, then I don't know what we would do…" She sighed, looking around at all the yellow tape.

            "I know what I'm going to do…"

            "What is that?"

            "Go home." Dave smiled; the hard day's night had finally brought a beautiful morning.

            "What about the press interviews? I can only guess how many reporters and cameras are waiting outside the station…" Michelle hated reporters, but for this she would make an exception to talk.

            "The camera adds ten pounds," Dave laughed, making light of the situation.

            "You've got _nothing to worry about." She turned and motioned to him, waving to the detective and the officer who was still taking photos of the scene. This was going to be one hell of a day._


	6. Six: Landslides & Reflections

"Gotham"

_A 'Smallville' fan fiction_

_All characters are owned by DC Comics, Warner Brothers, and their respective partners._

_'Superman' was created by Jerry Siegel and Joe Shuster._

_'Batman' was created by Bob Kane_

Timeframe: The summer between "Vortex" and "Heat" in season two

Disclaimer: I own plenty, but not these characters (not even Kaminski, not yet anyway…)

Rating: PG-13

Author's Note: Instead of having Bruce Wayne come to Smallville, I wanted Clark Kent to come to Gotham. I wanted to re-imagine Batman's origin to a very short extent. You will see many, many of the same things about Batman's past you've always heard. But if you look at it, there is room to grow in the origin of Batman, and since Smallville is all about origins, why not introduce another of the World's Finest? I'm not going to pull a JJ Abrams and make Bruce homosexual, have Alfred be a robot, or the existence of Wayne Enterprises a mere myth. I loved these characters since I was very young, starting with Batman: The Animated Series and with this fiction I am just putting the characters in different places. What if Clark Kent witnessed the murder of Bruce's parents, and who exactly was behind it? I'm only bringing you a "what if?" story that hopefully will entertain and make you happy when it ends.

_Six: Landslides and Reflections_

            Lex just stared at the television, he didn't move. Maybe it was shock, or maybe it was utter sadness. He just listened.

            "…The two hit men involved, whose names have not yet been released by Gotham PD, have been charged with first degree murder and are being kept in the maximum security wing of the local penitentiary. Thomas and Martha Wayne, the wealthiest married entrepreneurs in Gotham City, are survived by their only son… Bruce Wayne." The anchor flipped around her papers and turned to the anchor sitting next to her, "This is just awful, murdered in cold blood like this."

            "Yes, definitely a day to go down in the history of Gotham City," the anchorman frowned, "We here at the station speak for the city when we wish Bruce and his extended family the best of luck."

            Lex turned off the television and turned to the enormous window overlooking the city. The sun was bursting through the horizon; the blue of the sky was becoming a hazed yellow. He walked up and pressed his hands against the glass, feeling the sun's pulsating energy against his face. The meditation was interrupted by his phone, his father.

            "I'm on my way," Lionel sighed.

            "Why? The Waynes are not your next of kin."

            "Lex, haven't you learned by now that it doesn't matter who the person is… as long as you show up to their funeral people won't suspect you as being a heartless - "

            "What are you afraid of dad, someone thinking you are conniving?"

            "I want to show respect."

            "In light of business."

            "Of course."

            Lex clapped the phone shut and slowly set it on the counter, standing motionless, unable to comprehend what was going on.

            "If I wanted a vacation from hell I would go to Disney World," Lex turned to Clark as he walked into the room.

            "Beautiful morning," Clark pointed to the sunrise out through the enormous window, "I suppose you heard…" He frowned, sitting onto the leather sofa and gazing at Lex.

            "I don't know what to say," Lex looked down at the floor, "This is the last thing I expected to happen." Clark just looked at him, "You know, the last time I saw Thomas or Martha was seven months ago. They were so happy, so loving, we just all sat down at the table and had dinner. Thomas was shoving business hints at me the whole time, Martha always referring to the fact that I need a wife."

            Clark laughed, "Perfect memory…"

            "I guess so," Lex paused, picking up his keys, "We should…" his voice cracked, "…go see Bruce." He coughed and walked out the door. Clark got up and trailed behind him, Lex didn't need this, not today, not ever again.

            "Is this straightjacket necessary?" Kaminski grumbled.

            "You just killed four people, it is completely necessary," the friendly Michelle glared from behind the protective glass.

            "I told you, I did not kill anyone."

            "Right, but I'm sure that other guy we found did. And we are awful confident that you hired him…"

            Kaminski stomped his foot, "I am not speaking with you, not until I get my lawyer."

            "You started it," She frowned, turning and waving to the guards, "Have fun boys…"

            Outside the door she met up with the rookie, Dave, and he handed her some coffee.

            "How did the interviews go?" She smiled, "Don't answer that."

            "There's something I need to show you back at the station."

            "What is it?" She looked at him puzzled.

            "Well, it is very strange," he smiled, such a tease, "but also highly irrelevant."

            "Irrelevance is good, has anyone talked to the son?"

            "If by son you mean Bruce Wayne, no, but his lawyer will be meeting with him along with me."

            "You have fun with that, I've had enough trauma for the day." She walked with him out of the prison and back to the station.

            "These couldn't have hit a wall, there would be markings…" She frowned, staring into the microscope. "Has anyone seen these?"

            "Only some of the other guys working at the scene."

            "Good, let's try and keep it that way shall we?"

            "Let's, and let us also go get some lunch." He zipped the bag of crushed bullets, the same that had hit Clark's hand, and tossed them into a drawer.

            Bruce stood glaring out the window. He watched the little sparrows play games with one another on the telephone wire, the little old lady struggling to carry her grocery bag, and the countless cars zooming down the street. He was now aware of how precious life was. Every other thought was his parents; he looked down at the floor. Pictures flooded his mind as the bruise on his face pulsated with pain.

            "Bruce…" Lex coughed from the doorway.

            "You picked the perfect time to come visit," Bruce smirked, his eyes flooding with tears, "I want to believe this is not all my fault…"

            "It isn't, there's nothing you could have done," Lex walked up closer behind him, Clark taking a seat in the corner. "When my mother died my father told me there is always something good to come of tragedy…"

            Bruce wiped a tear with his sleeve, "Well, whatever good is coming, it has yet to show its face." Bruce stared at the wall, he may as well tell them, "I was awake…"

            "Awake?" Clark pondered, this could be bad.

            "Well, not completely, everything was dark," Bruce began to choke up again, "But I know I saw those bullets hit them, I saw the evil grin on the assassin's face! I've tried to convince myself I didn't see it, but I did! I saw their lifeless faces as they hit the ground! I could have gotten up! I could have stopped the damn bastard from shooting them!" Lex jumped up and put his hands on Bruce's shoulders.

            "Sit down…" He stared into Bruce's eyes, "What did you tell the police?"

            "They haven't seen me yet, but I told my lawyer I was out cold."

            "It is best you keep it that way then."

            "I figured so…" his pupils flared, "Kaminski, he's going to pay. His people are going to pay. I don't care what the hell I have to do; he will not rot in a cell at Arkham!" Tears rolled down his cheeks.

            "Well," Lex threw up his arms, "the psychopath deserves it!"

            "Listen Bruce, I'm very sorry, and I just want you to know that if you need anything, just ask…" Clark gave a calming smile; it was the Kent way of course.

            "Thanks," Bruce let out a little nod, "But Jesus, I'm going to have to run this company! I wasn't ready for this."

            "You can do it, if I could do it, you can…" Lex patted him on the shoulder.

            "And I will always be there for you master Bruce…" A familiar voice called from the doorway.

            "Alfred…"

            "Do not worry for a thing master Bruce; I have dealt with many losses in my day, though none this saddening… Your parents were brave and powerful people, and they would not want you to give up hope." Alfred sat down next to him and put his arm around Bruce's shoulder, "You are a strong boy, and your parents had no other. Their legacy depends on you, and I'm sure you are up for that challenge."

            "I hope so…" He looked around the room at Lex and Clark, and for a split second he felt whole. But the warmth dropped as the images ran through his head once again.

            "Hoping is a great start…" Alfred smiled, "Now a charming gentlemen named David from the Gotham Police is here to ask you some questions, you don't mind?"  
            "No…" Bruce nodded, looking at the doorway.

            "Then we'll leave you two alone to talk," Alfred assumed this, motioning his eyes for Clark and Lex to leave.

            "Good luck," Clark smiled, getting up.

            "I'll see you at the service Thursday," Lex offered a small wave and smile, closing the door behind him.

            Bruce looked back out the window. Staring at his reflection, he no longer saw the son of Gotham's richest man, but Gotham's sad, lost, and alone heir to Wayne Enterprises. Astounded by his reluctance, Bruce just stood frozen in time waiting for more questions, preparing for more lies, and expecting more pain.


	7. Seven: Two Thirds

"Gotham"

_A 'Smallville' fan fiction_

_All characters are owned by DC Comics, Warner Brothers, and their respective partners._

_'Superman' was created by Jerry Siegel and Joe Shuster._

_'Batman' was created by Bob Kane_

Timeframe: The summer between "Vortex" and "Heat" in season two

Disclaimer: I own plenty, but not these characters (not even Kaminski, not yet anyway…)

Rating: PG-13

Author's Note: Instead of having Bruce Wayne come to Smallville, I wanted Clark Kent to come to Gotham. I wanted to re-imagine Batman's origin to a very short extent. You will see many, many of the same things about Batman's past you've always heard. But if you look at it, there is room to grow in the origin of Batman, and since Smallville is all about origins, why not introduce another of the World's Finest? I'm not going to pull a JJ Abrams and make Bruce homosexual, have Alfred be a robot, or the existence of Wayne Enterprises a mere myth. I loved these characters since I was very young, starting with Batman: The Animated Series and with this fiction I am just putting the characters in different places. What if Clark Kent witnessed the murder of Bruce's parents, and who exactly was behind it? I'm only bringing you a "what if?" story that hopefully will entertain and make you happy when it ends.

**A/N Chapter Seven:** No, I did not have writer's block…just a minor creative difference in my head. Beside the fact that chapter seven is finally done, eight should arrive shortly. I now expect to wrap this enthralling tale up by chapter 15 or 16.

_Seven: Two Thirds_

"My job is unfinished…" Kaminski blankly stared into the eyes of the young man sitting across the table. The table was made of the coldest steel; they were surrounded by brightly lit glass with a layer of guards outside. No one was escaping this room. "…Which is why you must get me the hell out of here," Kaminski gritted his teeth, holding himself back from causing any commotion. His head slowly bobbing up and down as he sat half in thought, half ready to explode on this so-called "lawyer."

            "Mister Kaminski…" the young man choked up.

            "Call me Gerald!" Kaminski jokingly yelled, laughing at himself.

            "Gerald then," the lawyer shuffled in his seat as sweat condensed on his forehead, "I don't think you understand the severity of the situation at hand."

            Kaminski leaned back and grinned, "Oh, I understand," he chuckled. He looked around with the evil grin growing even broader, "I killed the two most powerful people on Gotham…"

            "Yes and most people don't get away with this sort of thing…" the lawyer looked around, "…ever."

            "How can I get away with anything when the job is unfinished? Did people criticize Michelangelo before he finished painting the Cistine Chapel?" He struggled to move in his straightjacket as he got up to yell, "There were supposed to be _three dead people last night!"_

            "I'm going to have to ask you to sit."

            "One Wayne still lives, one Wayne still lives!" Kaminski danced around, singing in a horribly high pitch. The lawyer motioned to the guards as Kaminski started to break into laughter. He flopped over and slammed onto the glass floor, struggling to get back up like a fish out of water. "Listen to me…"

            The lawyer got down on a knee and turned his head toward Kaminski's mouth, "What is it?"

            "He shall not live. No. I will not allow it. No." Kaminski's voice quieted into a deep whisper, "It is my soul duty to destroy that family…it is my mission. He will not live. No. And you will get me out of here."

            The guards swung open the door and grabbed Kaminski. The lawyer stood up and got lost in his thoughts, staring blankly as they drug Kaminski back to his cell.

            "You will get me out of here! That boy will die!" Kaminski's screams echoed through the corridor. The lawyer just rubbed his temples and stared at the floor, this was going to be hell.

            "So far we have not gotten a single detail from Bruce, as far as we know…" Michelle paused out of annoyance of this horrible news, "…No witnesses." She paused and looked around at all the flashes from cameras, the eager reporters, the cameras and monitors of her face on the local news. She was collapsing under pressure, "Now for any further questions I ask you to all take a break and come back in a few hours…" She sighed and left the podium to the yells and cries of the reporters, disappointed from the short conference.

             "The soap box can be a cruel place…"

            "It's your turn next time, Dave." She smiled, "Sun is setting already?" She let out a quiet moan.

            "Time flies when you're investigating a highly publicized murder."

            "Tell me about it."

            "I'm a man of service, not stories."

            "I have to go, one more _suspect to chat with…" She clapped her hands and looked at the setting sun slowly creeping behind the clock tower._

            "Well Bruce had no info, John Doe assassin doesn't like my shoes, and…?" Dave pondered.

            "Lex Luthor will probably hit on me." She smiled.

            "Lex Luthor is a suspect?"

            "He's here, he's a friend of Bruce's, and he's a suspect."

            "But Lex?" Dave whimpered.

            "You don't worry," she pinched his cheek, "I'll handle this one."

            "Oh thank god."

            "But Gordon does want some reports, you'll find all the paper you need in the top left drawer of my desk." She smiled at him, not worrying about where Lex Luthor could possibly be in this town.

            "If the reports must be done, I'm your man." He sighed.

            "I hope so; don't go cheating on any other partner." She rolled her eyes, "Have fun." She patted him on the shoulder and hopped into the cruiser, "Where are you Lex…?"

            Maybe it was the enormous LuthorCorp logo Lex loathed, or the fact he was forced to stare at it while his father limbered in a state of casual lateness. The helicopter pad was now his enemy, the last place he wanted to be on a day like this. But it was the right thing to do, he supposed. "Casually late," he tapped his watch.

            "Maybe he…" Clark stopped himself and just absorbed the beautiful sunset from atop the building. He never turned his head, just keeping his focus on the beautiful horizon of the ravaged city.

            "Forgot something? No, my father is the showroom model for obsessive compulsive disorder. If anything, he's just trying to annoy me by landing at the other building."

            The perfect time to land somewhere else…" Clark sighed.

            "Business is always random."

            Clark looked around the sky, "Hear that?" Maybe it was just his hearing; he could swear it was getting very keen.

            "Are you a fox? I don't hear a thing…" Lex looked around the horizon then let out a little laugh, "That's not funny."

            Clark just laughed, hiding his actual seriousness, "Yeah, can't help myself sometimes." He looked around and let it go, weird.

            There was a loud slam of the exit door to the roof of the building. Lex jumped up and walked around the corner of the structure, "Dad…is that you?" He looked around, hearing a woman yelling out some obscenities and kicking the door. Clark followed closely behind him, just in case of course.

            "Need help?" Lex asked from behind Michelle as she finally slammed the door shut, "Doors are such a pain sometimes."

            Michelle looked up and smiled at the both of them, realizing her intrusion, "Oh! I'm not interrupting anything…am I?" She sifted her golden brown hair from her face and pointed back and forth from Clark to Lex, "…am I?"

            "Only pure boredom," Lex held out his hand, "Lex Luthor, this is my good _friend Clark Kent."_

            She shook his hand, "Michelle White, Gotham PD." She shook Clark's hand and noticed three red bruises on his palm when he held it out, but didn't think much of it.

            Lex looked around, "How can I help you?"

            "There are some parking tickets, a few years back you just couldn't keep your SUV out of the white zone…" She winked, being as smooth as possible.

            "You know that white zone is unnecessary, especially when half the cars that could use it don't." He smiled at her wit.

            "We can discuss white zones in depth later, I have some questions."

            "Naturally," Lex frowned, "I would normally ask to wait until my lawyer gets here, but you see desperate."

            "Not desperate…just stuck."

            "Listen, the plain story is that we were going to meet Bruce for dinner that night, but he had to cancel because they were going to leave town to get away. They knew someone was after them, they just didn't know exactly what for. He mentioned Kaminski a few times, definitely."

            "So there's not much either of you can tell me?" She sighed, another dead end.

            "No, but we are both willing to help."

            "Great, I'll keep that in mind." She walked away and didn't bother saying goodbye. She stopped in her tracks to the sound of a helicopter, a helicopter moving way too fast for as close as it was. She turned and gasped at the whirling helicopter spinning toward the building.

            Lex immediately recognized the chopper, his father's, and he ran up to the ledge of the roof and flipped open his cell phone, "Dad!"

            "Lex, the pilot has lost control…assistant is trying…to control…" And his phone went dead. Clark watched in horror as the craft twirled towards them completely out of control.

            Michelle grasped her radio and called for all cruisers and dispatch to make their way to the building, just when she thought this day was complete hell it, got even darker.


	8. Eight: Distracted

"Gotham"

_A 'Smallville' fan fiction_

_All characters are owned by DC Comics, Warner Brothers, and their respective partners._

_'Superman' was created by Jerry Siegel and Joe Shuster._

_'Batman' was created by Bob Kane_

Timeframe: The summer between "Vortex" and "Heat" in season two

Disclaimer: I own plenty, but not these characters (not even Kaminski, not yet anyway…)

Rating: PG-13

Author's Note: Instead of having Bruce Wayne come to Smallville, I wanted Clark Kent to come to Gotham. I wanted to re-imagine Batman's origin to a very short extent. You will see many, many of the same things about Batman's past you've always heard. But if you look at it, there is room to grow in the origin of Batman, and since Smallville is all about origins, why not introduce another of the World's Finest? I'm not going to pull a JJ Abrams and make Bruce homosexual, have Alfred be a robot, or the existence of Wayne Enterprises a mere myth. I loved these characters since I was very young, starting with Batman: The Animated Series and with this fiction I am just putting the characters in different places. What if Clark Kent witnessed the murder of Bruce's parents, and who exactly was behind it? I'm only bringing you a "what if?" story that hopefully will entertain and make you happy when it ends.

_Eight: Distracted_

_            The sound of sirens filled the air as the helicopter skidded onto the hard concrete surface of the building. The aircraft spun around and the blades continued to turn and slam into the concrete until they were all bent out of proportion. Clark was the first to act, running up to the burning helicopter and pulling out the now unconscious Lionel. His sun glasses that covered his blind eyes were bent and he was covered in soot. The flames from the helicopter grew even larger, leaving Clark seconds to grab the pilot._

            "Make sure he's okay," Clark gently laid Lionel in front of Lex, who was now in complete and udder shock. Clark watched for Michelle to look away as she bent down to help Lionel, and he sped up to the helicopter's cockpit door. He ripped open the door and flung the pilot over his shoulders.

            "Everyone get down!" He yelled, speeding away from the helicopter. The screams from below were silenced by the helicopter bursting into a massive inferno, parts of the engine falling to the streets below. The force of the blast knocked Lex out of his subconscious shock and flung him over the edge as Michelle threw herself over Lionel.

            Clark dropped the pilot near Michelle and sped up to Lex, grappling Lex's wrist into his fist and quickly picking him back up onto the building. Michelle was back up and assisting the paramedics to Lionel, as news helicopters surrounded the area as if territorial mockingbirds. Clark sighed and walked over to the pilot, lying unconscious; he kneeled over and examined him for any wounds.

            "I need some help over here!" Clark yelled to the paramedics, Michelle immediately ran over and gasped at the sight of the pilot. "What's wrong!?" Clark yelled.

            "That's…Bill."

            The red armchair had always been his favorite, in the east wing family room anyway. Bruce sat, lost within the boundaries of his mind, staring at the enormous family portrait from many years ago. It stood above the cold dark fireplace, which as far as Bruce was concerned, would never feel warmth again. He would never feel warmth again.

            The mansion reeked of death, it wasn't just the fact that all the lights were off and the extreme quietness that lingered in the air. But Bruce's mood seemed to seep into every nook, cranny, and wing of the mansion. Love was a fairy tale, folklore, a myth.

            He continued to stare, his pupils slowly focusing more and more. His fists clenched the red fabric of the chair as he shuffled for a moment. The clock slowly gained the attention of his ear; the ticks of every second began to compliment every tock. A rhythm of extremely minuscule noises began to absorb his attention. And for a second he forgot the pain. He wasn't going insane. He was just going insanely irate.

            The band of ticks, tocks, and his stare at the family he once thought would last forever were halted. His phone, and for a moment he actually considered that he may answer the beckoning of someone who may need to ask a question. No one needed him anymore; his phone was of no importance. He pulled the now unnecessary means of communication from his waistline clip and tossed it across the room. It smacked the wooded floor of the hall and broke into several pieces, silencing the inconsiderate ring.

            No one needed him anymore. And he didn't need anyone anymore. All he needed was vengeance.

            The gray solid, stainless, steel doors to Kaminski's cell slowly slid open to reveal the glass wall that gave him a glimpse of the hall to other patients.

            He chuckled slightly at the sight of Michelle and Clark standing impatiently, "Oh…is it playtime already?"

            "How did you do it?"

            "The man was desperate, what can I say?" He leaned his head up against the wall, "and why am I always public enemy number one?"

            "I hate to break it to you, Kaminski, but you aren't an enemy. You are dead weight, worthless scum, with information that we need." Michelle was always her best in times of dire need. She couldn't quite understand how after Bill was released from the hospital Kaminski was able to get him to hijack Lionel Luthor's helicopter and crash land it. Not to mention that Bill himself threw Lionel's assistant from the aircraft at takeoff. So now Lex and Lionel were both resting up at the penthouse, since they both walked away with mere scratches. But Bill was back at the hospital, although he _was holding a one way ticket to Arkham._

            "Oh you are a sweetie!" Kaminski hopped up to the glass, Clark stepped back out of admitted fear. "But too bad the looks don't come with smarts…"

            "Intelligence is my specialty." Clark smiled, fighting his fear of Kaminski by teasing him.

            "But you were never good at puzzles, obviously," Kaminski's voice sank, "I simply hate the rich and powerful."

            "So you're going to kill all the rich and powerful from a jail cell!" Michelle sarcastically yelled, "It all makes sense now!"

            "You silly little girl," Kaminski chuckled, "Perhaps this little incident I had Bill manage to pull off, even though his great pain did stop him from…executing…his original plan, were just a distraction for your little police force to beat a stick at?"

            "Distraction for what?" Clark whispered, finally putting the pieces together.

            Kaminski smiled at Clark's sudden loss in thought, "So the boy isn't so dumb after all…"

            "What the hell?" Michelle pounded the glass.

            "You ignorant, reckless, pitiful excuse for a law enforcer; hijacking Luthor's helicopter was just a yummy little bonus that gave room for my other "employees" to finish their work!" Kaminski broke into laughter, "Poor Bruce, he was Gotham's final hope…and now that dream is ruined."

            "There's still time." Clark glared at Michelle. She was too busy gritting her teeth at Kaminski.

            "You look tense, sweetie, can I interest you in a massage?" Kaminski taunted.

            She reached for a blinking green button on the control panel for the cell, and Kaminski watched with a blank stare of udder confusion. "Clark, the minute the glass opens, restrain him."

            Clark looked at her shocked and moved to stop her, "No, what are you-"

            The glass zipped open and Kaminski hopped out with glee and lunged at Clark, Clark responded nicely by grabbing Kaminski's left arm and twisting it. He used his grip to bring Kaminski to the floor. Kaminski squirmed and moaned for a guard as Michelle called off the guards.

            "This is a new approach to things…" Clark sighed.

            Michelle bent down to Kaminski, "We are going to go and stop your "employees" from doing their job. And you, my psychotic buddy, are going to stop them!" She patted his head, and assumed that Clark would drag him along.

            "Thanks," Clark grunted.

            "We all must make sacrifices…let's go." She pointed to the doors and emergency exit, "There's no time."

            "I am not going to participate in your games!" Kaminski roared, struggling to get free of Clark's inescapable grip.

            "And neither will we!" Michelle turned, pointing directly at him.

            "Did your mother teach you any manners? Pointing…so 1973!" Kaminski smiled, still struggling to get free.

            "I suggest you stop squirming," Clark whispered into Kaminski's ear, "It only makes the bruise darker."

            They burst through the doors and ran down the long wide concrete stairs to Michelle's cruiser. The officers nearby gasped at the sudden event and followed the group as Michelle motioned for them to follow. If this day was going to be hell, she sure wasn't going to burn in it.


	9. Nine: Backhand

"Gotham"

_A 'Smallville' fan fiction_

_All characters are owned by DC Comics, Warner Brothers, and their respective partners._

_'Superman' was created by Jerry Siegel and Joe Shuster._

_'Batman' was created by Bob Kane_

Timeframe: The summer between "Vortex" and "Heat" in season two

Disclaimer: I own plenty, but not these characters (not even Kaminski, not yet anyway…)

Rating: PG-13

Author's Note: Instead of having Bruce Wayne come to Smallville, I wanted Clark Kent to come to Gotham. I wanted to re-imagine Batman's origin to a very short extent. You will see many, many of the same things about Batman's past you've always heard. But if you look at it, there is room to grow in the origin of Batman, and since Smallville is all about origins, why not introduce another of the World's Finest? I'm not going to pull a JJ Abrams and make Bruce homosexual, have Alfred be a robot, or the existence of Wayne Enterprises a mere myth. I loved these characters since I was very young, starting with Batman: The Animated Series and with this fiction I am just putting the characters in different places. What if Clark Kent witnessed the murder of Bruce's parents, and who exactly was behind it? I'm only bringing you a "what if?" story that hopefully will entertain and make you happy when it ends.

_Nine: Backhand_

_            "You always liked a French vanilla latte' on a rainy day, master Bruce…" Alfred sighed, interrupting Bruce's meditated stare._

            Slightly turning his head with no expression, "It's not raining."

            "Then let it." Alfred groaned, there was little he could do for now. He had tried to motivate Bruce, but perhaps after the services his attitude would pick up.

            The portrait was now taunting Bruce with its impeccable smiling family. He was caving to the pain and he wasn't about to care otherwise. This was it, he was going to live the rest of his life knowing that he could have done something and he didn't. His parents would never be happy, even wherever they were after death, he_ knew they were angry. And he was all to blame._

            "Let it rain…" Bruce whispered. He jumped at the abrupt sound of a click of a shotgun behind his head. He raised his hands up without any direction and slowly turned with a blank face.

            "What are you going to do…?" Bruce sternly looked up shocked, "…Barbara!?"

            She stood with tears rolling down her cheeks, her eyes bloodshot, her lips quivered as she struggled to speak, "I can't stop myself…"

            "This is Kaminski! Put the gun down, he can't control you, whatever he did, he's gone now!" Bruce walked back with his hands up, "You do not want to do this!"

            "The money's been deposited in my account! If I don't do this…then he'll personally come after me! I can't stop it! He's going to destroy my life!" The gun shivered in her hands as the barrel seemed to glare at Bruce.

            "He's in a maximum security cell, he can't get to anyone. He has no-"

            "Did you not see the news today!? Bill crashed Lionel Luthor's helicopter into the grand plaza downtown! Bill! Things went wrong, but people could have died! I don't want that happening to me!" She moved closer to him, "I'm sorry…"

            "You're right," Bruce dropped his hands; "I have nothing left, just kill me too. That'll make everything better."

            "No, it won't…" she sighed, "You are it for this town-gone to hell! I'm sorry…" Her tears came down as her grip on the barrel of the gun loosened.

            Bruce stopped, was the reverse psychology working? Sure, the pressures of life had driven him to sit in a chair all day staring at some dusty portrait, but he didn't want to die.

            But Barbara's mind flickered and the thoughts of her son and life being ruined by all this came back, she had to do this, "I'm sorry…" her grip tightened and the gun rose to Bruce's chest.

            Out of the madness of this already insane night the giant glass window in the room shattered open, it was Clark and Michelle, with Kaminski in hand.

            "Don't bother Barbara!" Kaminski shouted as Clark and Michelle raced up to restrain her. She turned and out of mass confusion began to fire the gun everywhere; Michelle ran up behind her and kicked her shin, causing Barbara to fall onto the end table next to the red chair.

            "This is over," Clark smiled at Bruce, but Bruce offered no reaction. Michelle strapped handcuffs onto Barbara and yelled out her rights, the Wayne customized alarm system was now blaring throughout the manor. Clark looked over at Kaminski, who squirmed in his straightjacket and began to laugh at the madness before him.

            "What's so funny?" Bruce glared at Kaminski from across the room, finally facing the enemy.

            "Oh…nothing…" Kaminski chuckled, looking over at the portrait and back at the lonely Bruce. "Perhaps my mission was accomplished after all."

            "Son of a bitch…" Bruce sighed, "You're the one on the floor, I'm still standing."  
            "Just shut up Kaminski, you're through…" Clark crossed his arms and just overlooked him.

            "Oh, but I have just begun to play! Gotham is my sandbox and you are my pink little shovels!" He rolled around, and with a snap, the jacket eased off his body. Michelle glanced off of her attention with Barbara and ran up to him, but was too late and his backhand met her face. "Sorry girly, gotta fly!" She picked herself off the floor and whipped out her gun at him as he jumped out the broken window.

            "Don't bother pulling that trigger," Bruce stopped her, "Leave this up to me." He motioned for Clark to follow and they ran, hopping out the window after him. She ripped up her radio and called for the backup waiting outside to go after him with much caution. She respected Bruce's want for revenge, and she hoped that he would have his chance to receive it.

            The two men ran without caution, but the all too familiar noise of a helicopter sounded from above them. It headed over them and dropped down a rope ladder into the fields not too far ahead. Kaminski hopped from the brush onto it, motioning to whoever was on board to pull up.

            Clark resisted his temptation to speed and kept up with Bruce's humanly fast pace. The helicopter swiftly lifted and Kaminski climbed the ladder cautiously, but the tug of Bruce from below halted his climb.

            "Aren't you too old to play army men?" Kaminski chuckled, kicking Bruce's face and knocking him off the ladder back into the brush. Clark sped up and caught him from hitting the hard ground.

            Clark angrily glared at the helicopter as Bruce jumped back on his feet. He gave Bruce a concerned look, but Bruce seemed untarnished. 

            "We'll get him. We'll get him, come on." Bruce began to walk toward the garage and reached for his cell phone. "Damn." He looked over to Clark.

            "Smallville." Clark reminded him.

            The breeze blew back Bruce's jacket and the long tall grass ruffled. The cool summer night was finally settling in as the sun finally tucked itself behind the dark clouds of Gotham's nightlife. A familiar voice shouted from the window, Michelle.

            "The backup wasn't fast enough! But we have a trace as to where he might be going!" She looked over to the Clock tower in the Gotham skyline and crossed her arms, "The clock tower! Gordon has every cruiser, helicopter, and officer headed that way. So hurry!" She turned back to the room now filled with officers, Alfred offering them refreshments.

            "Let's go." Bruce pointed to the garage as the clock tower rung out for the new hour. 

            "Are you sure you want to do this?" Clark yelled through the wind.

            "I haven't been sure of anything today, let's just see what happens!" Bruce pulled out his keys and the garage door flung open, the red Ferrari automatically turning on at the push of another button.

            "Let us watch the psychopath try and outrun this thing," Bruce grinned and revved the engine, who said revenge couldn't be stylish?


	10. Ten: Promised Land

"Gotham"

_A 'Smallville' fan fiction_

_All characters are owned by DC Comics, Warner Brothers, and their respective partners._

_'Superman' was created by Jerry Siegel and Joe Shuster._

_'Batman' was created by Bob Kane_

Timeframe: The summer between "Vortex" and "Heat" in season two

Disclaimer: I own plenty, but not these characters (not even Kaminski, not yet anyway…)

Rating: PG-13

Author's Note: Instead of having Bruce Wayne come to Smallville, I wanted Clark Kent to come to Gotham. I wanted to re-imagine Batman's origin to a very short extent. You will see many, many of the same things about Batman's past you've always heard. But if you look at it, there is room to grow in the origin of Batman, and since Smallville is all about origins, why not introduce another of the World's Finest? I'm not going to pull a JJ Abrams and make Bruce homosexual, have Alfred be a robot, or the existence of Wayne Enterprises a mere myth. I loved these characters since I was very young, starting with Batman: The Animated Series and with this fiction I am just putting the characters in different places. What if Clark Kent witnessed the murder of Bruce's parents, and who exactly was behind it? I'm only bringing you a "what if?" story that hopefully will entertain and make you happy when it ends.

**A/N Chapter 10:** Sorry it has taken so long, but I felt as if the direction of the story was being too rushed and was turning into an episode of Birds of Prey. So I have taken a couple seminars [since there is nothing else to do in a quiet empty classroom for an hour and a half] to finish up this story. So in one big update I give you 10 and 11, hopefully I will wrap up the story with 12 and an epilogue. I really am proud of these last chapters, after reading Max Allan Collin's Dark Angel novel "Before the Dawn" I was really inspired to adapt a better writing style. So enjoy.

_Ten: Promised Land_

Kaminski leapt out of the helicopter as it glided and nicely perched down onto the landing of the illustrious clock tower rooftop. He tumbled out, but was gleeful no matter what the situation was at hand. He was going to win this game.

He glanced over the ledge on his trot to the entrance to view the streets below, which had become a mass chaos of police cruisers, paramedics, and most abundantly: news vans. A spotlight lit up his face, reminding him of the dozens of helicopters circling the building, but he smiled as he stared down the barrel of the bright beam. He was smitten to see it was in fact a police chopper. They wouldn't make a move; it was too early, too risky. The big steel door, the entrance to the clock tower lair, swung open with a roaring slam. Kaminski's moment of fortune broke and he rolled, running was too human, inside. He greeted the guard, whom also served as an assistant. Kaminski hadn't bothered to learn the guy's name, considering someone would probably end up killing him in the end.

Kaminski then picked up his white gloves from a nearby table, lifted his arms, and screamed, "Music!"

The beams from the helicopters, news and police alike, beamed through the sliver-like windows and the glass structure of the clock's face. Kaminski wasn't concerned though; he enjoyed the thrill of a situation like the one at hand. He just smiled as the music was finally switched on, and he raised his chin and hands just before the first note…

So as Bruce and Clark raced to reach Kaminski at the tower, Lex and Lionel presumably rested at the penthouse, and the citizens of Gotham watched the situation unfold from their television sets; Kaminski, in his psychopathic glory, was conducting his pretend orchestra as Beethoven's Ninth Symphony blared from the eight speakers surrounding the room. It was as if the symphony was heaven itself, and Kaminski was dancing on the clouds.

The guard, standing tall and muscular as any stereotypical guard would, tried not to laugh at the site he was witnessing before him. He had actually contemplated on throwing a Bee gees track as the next song up, but he was in this for the money, and fooling around with Kaminski meant an exit from the payroll.

A bang on the door again, it was just the helicopter pilot. The guard opened then quickly shut the door as the thin blonde swam through the air to the "comfy" couch, as she described it; Kaminski had stolen from a Rent-A-Center. She plopped down and sighed at the site before her, "Isn't this song like a half an hour or somethin'?" She snapped her gum and curled her lip.

"It is as long as he wants it to be," The guard moaned.

"Why must the psycho's always hire me?" She played with her hair and un-buckled her boots.

"They seem to have a thing for blondes…"

She just scowled at him.

"…Or blondes have a thing for them?" He shrugged.

Then the symphony went on.

And on.

The car holding Bruce and Clark nearly leapt into the crowd of police cruisers and news vans parked outside the clock tower. Clark surveyed the area for the best way to get in, his eyes piercing through the crowd. Bruce just wanted to know how to not draw attention to himself.

The cops, scattered around like dazed and confused ants, radioed one another at the site of Bruce's arrival. They hadn't got five feet from the car when a familiar face thankfully emerged from the mass gathering.

"I had a feeling you'd follow suit and head for the Promised Land…" Lex smiled.

"Oh, you aren't leading?" Clark said, almost not wanting to due to the situation. But Jonathan had always encouraged to try and make the best of any somber time. 

Bruce just nodded. They all looked at each other for a brief moment at a loss for words. Lex picked up on what was happening. He didn't think before he flipped open his phone and the LexCorp helicopter hovering above dove from the crowd of choppers surrounding the tower. Bruce looked at him with shock.

            "Why the hell is your chopper up there?"

            "Free publicity, and sheer boredom. He's got a camera too, you know how that goes, Tivo's hard drive is full."

            "Ah, never trust technology."

            "Right," Lex agreed, "And these sorts of things are always easier from above…"

            "Speak from experience?" Clark added in.

            "If only you knew."

            "There just seems to be an abundance of helicopters this week," Clark laughed.

            "There does…along with maniacal killers," Bruce sighed as he watched the helicopter swoop down and land in a park across the street. The LexCorp logo was newly minted on the side.

            The pilot slammed the door shut as the three of them buckled themselves in. The police wouldn't bother them now, Michelle and Lex had made sure of that. The news was taken care of as well, since the windows were brilliantly tinted the same day as the new logo was painted on.

            A Wayne and a Luthor finally working together to take down a mad man, it _would _have been the story of the year. Too bad they would never really ever get a glance as to who was in that chopper.

            Of course the only person who actually knew they were in that helicopter was Lionel. Listening quaintly to the television from his chair in the penthouse, he longed for his vision and the chance to see his son help save the day. There was a proud smirk on his face, nonetheless.

            "Where will we land?" Clark curiously looked out on the roof.

            "We won't." Bruce blankly stared, waiting.

            The helicopter swung down around just outside a crevice formed by two wall structures of the clock. It would be considered an alley if it were on the ground, littered with unused trash bins and rusting spare parts from construction.

            They all avoided news cameras again by jumping out fast enough to not be spotted and for the chopper to pull away as Clark's heel left the floor. He was happy; no exposure meant no explanation for his parents. The helicopter just joined the others once again, watching over the trio as they made their move.

            The alleyway was not considered very long, or wide, since it was only meant for storage. One end led out to a brief pathway to a viewing balcony, and the other to an inner storage chamber. Clark immediately x-rayed the scene, they had not been spotted by Kaminski and there were no other people in site. So he did the natural hero thing and burst through the big door to the storage room.

            "Clark, the last thing we need is recklessness." Bruce reminded him.

            Clark just rolled his eyes, "Sorry about that."

"Do you hear that…?" Lex silenced them, holding up his index finger for that exact reason.

            "Beethoven's Ninth?" Bruce asked, knowing all to well it was; "He must be a music aficionado as well."

            "Regardless, he _is a killer." Lex leaned on the steel wall._

            The room was completely dark, damp, humid and musty. The smell reminded Clark of his father's old tool shed, the one they _don't use anymore._

The music stopped. They stood at alert, perhaps they had been picked up by something.

The click of a microphone picking up made them jump, as someone sighed over the loud speaker.

"When a man…loves a woman!" Kaminski burst into song as the music track trailed behind his hectic vocals.

The trio sighed at once, and their attention focused on their next move. This was of course delayed somewhat by the constant annoyance of Kaminski's annoying performance of the passé song.

_"What record label out there _hasn't_ turned this guy down?" Clark thought, remembering Chloe's sarcastic sense of humor._


	11. Eleven: Midnight

"Gotham"

_A 'Smallville' fan fiction_

_All characters are owned by DC Comics, Warner Brothers, and their respective partners._

_'Superman' was created by Jerry Siegel and Joe Shuster._

_'Batman' was created by Bob Kane_

Timeframe: The summer between "Vortex" and "Heat" in season two

Disclaimer: I own plenty, but not these characters (not even Kaminski, not yet anyway…)

Rating: PG-13

Author's Note: Instead of having Bruce Wayne come to Smallville, I wanted Clark Kent to come to Gotham. I wanted to re-imagine Batman's origin to a very short extent. You will see many, many of the same things about Batman's past you've always heard. But if you look at it, there is room to grow in the origin of Batman, and since Smallville is all about origins, why not introduce another of the World's Finest? I'm not going to pull a JJ Abrams and make Bruce homosexual, have Alfred be a robot, or the existence of Wayne Enterprises a mere myth. I loved these characters since I was very young, starting with Batman: The Animated Series and with this fiction I am just putting the characters in different places. What if Clark Kent witnessed the murder of Bruce's parents, and who exactly was behind it? I'm only bringing you a "what if?" story that hopefully will entertain and make you happy when it ends.

_Eleven: __Midnight___

            The sun was finally setting on the humid Wednesday of the torturous Gotham summer. The city was in mourning as the funeral services of the city's two biggest entrepreneurs was to be held in less than twenty-four hours.

            But little did any citizen, not even anyone in Smallville, know the fight with Gerald Kaminski would have escalated to such levels.

            The trio of Clark, Bruce, and Lex had been forced to listen to Kaminski's concert from hell for two hours with no room to make another move. If they were to burst through the door, they would be shot at. And _that was the only way in._

            Clark, however, had the largest cloud perched over his head. He could use his powers and take the psycho out, but he would feel horrible if he didn't allow Bruce to flip the switch on Kaminski. But he had to use his powers, there was no other way, but the consequences kept reminding him to cool it. After much thinking, he came to a conclusion; he would use his powers and face the consequences.

            "Lex…" Clark looked up from his upside down garbage can seat, "…I have an idea, hand me that pipe?"

            "Sure…" Lex mysteriously eyed Clark and handed him the pipe.

            Clark looked at it, rolling it around in his hands, he looked at Lex. He really hoped that the impact of the pipe to his skull would erase this moment from his memory. There was no other way.

            "What the hell?" Bruce jumped up from the corner and headed to stop Clark.

            Lex tried to move but the pipe met his forehead much too quickly, and he fell to the floor face first, unconscious and frozen.

            Bruce grabbed Clark's shoulders and tried to throw him against the wall, but didn't succeed. "What the hell are you thinking?"

            Clark looked worriedly at Bruce, "I can explain."

            "Well I'd hope so, for god's sake, he could be dead."

            "He's not dead." Clark rolled his eyes.

            "How would you know?"

            Clark stopped and circled the room with his eyes, "Bruce…I'm not like other people."

            "That's quite obvious…you're god damn insane!"

            Clark ignored the accusation and shuffled in his seat, "You remember those meteor showers back in '89 in Smallville?"

            "Yeah," Bruce stopped, "Did the meteors affect you somehow?"

            "No…"

            "I'm confused."

            "…I came _with the meteor showers." Clark paused and watched Bruce's expression drop._

            "You mean you born during them?"

            "Not exactly…the shower was a cover for my," he stopped himself and acknowledged how ridiculous he sounded, "ship."

            "You…?"

            "I…I…came from space…space, somewhere in space. And for some reason I have these powers. I know nothing about where I came from or who my real parents are."

            "Oh…" Bruce gasped.

            Clark choked up, "And I don't want anyone to know, except my parents of course, so Lex finding out now would not have been a good thing. Using my powers is the only way to get out of here alive." Clark looked around and began to sweat from his nervousness.

            "That explains how you saved Lex's life…"

            "I guess you would call it a curse and a blessing."

            "What kind of powers do you…have?" Bruce anxiously asked.

            Clark picked up the pipe and bent it in half, then set it on the floor and smashed it with his foot.

            "I can also see through things."

            Bruce turned around quickly out of excitement, "Holy Jesus!"

            "Somehow I doubt that."

            "Okay…" Bruce clapped his hands together and sighed, "Let's do it."

            "Great."

            "Just promise me one thing, leave Kaminski to me."

            "Agreed," Clark sighed, thankful that Bruce understood, or at least accepted him. "Just promise not to send me to a lab somewhere?"

            "Of course not," Bruce patted him on the shoulder. A new sense of friendship came about them. "Then let's get to it, I've had enough of this music."

            One would have thought even a psychopath would hate singing along to the Spice Girls. In this case, one would have thought wrong.

            Kaminski's concert continued with "Wannabe" as he danced around the clock tower. Sofas over turned, tables broke, dishes smashed, as he hopped all over. The guard and the pilot now stood next to each other near the door, contemplating on leaving. The bright lights from the circling helicopters seemed to get brighter as the sun swiftly fell behind the clouds. The lights were dancing with Kaminski, creating the effect of an oversized disco ball.

            The clock struck midnight, greeting Thursday, and they were all still listening to his horrible voice.

            But at 12:02 the music finally stopped.

            Kaminski fell over screaming at the sound of silence, accented by the quiet hum of helicopters outside. "Must the fun only last for so long?" He moaned from the floor.

            The guard hopped from the door way and whipped out his hand gun, "Stay down," he motioned to Kaminski, "Someone else has joined our party." The pilot just swooned over behind the kitchen counter, not wanting nor bothering to get involved.

            "Little…pink…SHOVELS!" Kaminski cried out, jumping up and storming around, "how did you get in here!?" He yelled into the ceiling.

            The guard knew this was a mistake on his part, but he continued to stare at Kaminski blankly. He quickly fell to the floor as the mashed metal pipe slammed into the back of his skull.

            The gun from the guard's hands slid over to Kaminski's feet, and he picked it up, "Come to finally dance under the silver night moon?" he yelled again, looking around into the darkness and the whirling lights from outside.

            Clark and Bruce both tried to avoid the constantly moving lights, with them always moving there was always a chance to be spotted.

            "Stop!" the pilot lunged at Kaminski, but before she could even pull the trigger on the gun she had hidden in her bureau, a bullet from Kaminski's soared through the air and dug into her thigh. She screamed and fell over behind the kitchen counter as she tried to hold the blood. She prayed Kaminski would let off and get distracted by _something_ else.

            "Oh I never trusted you petite fille," Kaminski smiled, feeling the rush of murder brushing the back of his neck.

            "You shouldn't play with guns Kaminski…"

            Kaminski jumped and turned around behind him and met Bruce's dark eyes from across the room.

            "…_You_ could get hurt."

            Kaminski screamed and let the bullets escape the cage of the barrel of his gun, but Clark's chest gladly accepted them as he jumped in front of Bruce, not a single one making it past Clark's barrier. Kaminski stood there dumbfounded at what he had just seen, the empty clip automatically falling from the gun.

            "Confused?" Bruce smirked, "Or just finally coming to grips with whom the bad guy really is?"

            Clark leapt back out of the darkness he had hidden in after catching the bullets and tugged Kaminski to the ground. Leaving Kaminski hugging the tile, he leapt over to the pilot to help her with the wound. Thus cementing their agreement, and leaving Kaminski to Bruce as promised.

            Bruce walked over to the broken man slowly, the hard bottoms of his shoes making a dramatic boom with every step. He crouched down and pulled up Kaminski's face by tugging the back of his head with his hair, "I'm going to kill you, you know that, or so help me god if you walk out of this place in chains justice would not break them for they would melt on the heat your recent sins exert from your body."

            Kaminski just chuckled and turned over, "You silly little shovel, I have already killed you. You are standing, breathing, above me now, but there is no light to reflect off the pigment of your pink shovel body!"

            "And whose fault do you think that is?" Bruce still held onto the hunk of hair.

            "His…" Kaminski pointed to Clark. Bruce looked over at him with confusion, and then laughed, looking back down at Kaminski.

            "What the hell are you talking about? You are the psychopath who killed them…YOU."

            Clark looked over with an alarming concern.

            Kaminski broke into a laughing cry, rolling over in place and banging his head on the tile.

            "Did he not inform you?" Kaminski chuckled, "I remember him now…he caught the bullets, just like he did now."

            Bruce stopped smiling and looked down into Kaminski's eyes as he went on.  
            "He came up to me, caught the bullets…Then like the little pink shovel he is! Scooped me up and tossed me into the trash in the nether region of the alley! The vision which my head holds, blurry at the time, saw the assassin I had hired…he killed your parents. Perhaps our steel boy over here was too slow? Or perhaps he didn't care? He was fast enough to catch my bullets, why was he not fast enough to scoop the assassin's?"

            Bruce looked over at Clark and released Kaminski; he slowly stood and backed away, constantly looking back and forth between them.

            "So our shovel takes the truth in his mind and contemplates what the facts are…" Kaminski sighed, letting out a signature chuckle.

            "Bruce…" Clark sighed, about to expose the truth.

            "Were you there!?" Bruce burst into an angry sweat and was greeted by a silent stare from Clark.

            "I…."

            "You…what?"

            The doors of the room burst open, the excitement of the room must have made them all not notice the police chopper landing outside. It was Michelle, her SWAT team standing like a pack of hungry wolves behind her, waiting for her command. She stopped and issued silence with her hand, and tried to observe what was going on.

            Time stood still, Bruce's vision blurred as the energy that went into his thoughts seemed to take away from the rest of his body.

            Kaminski hopped up, "Bruce, I remember him, he caught my bullets with his bare hand!" He held up his left palm and pointed to it, "They had to have been everywhere at the auditorium or as you human people would call it, crime scene."

            Michelle remembered the crushed bullets they had found that morning as she looked around and saw them scattered all over the tiled floor.

            "Bruce, I couldn't stop him…he was too fast! I was protecting you! It is not like I am a professional hero!" Clark broke down as tears welled in his eyes, seeing the newfound friendship crumble as Bruce's eyes sank.

            "You were there." He looked down and kicked a crushed bullet, "But you were too slow."

            "There was Kaminski and the assassin, I stopped Kaminski, but the assassin appeared out of nowhere, I thought he was already taken care of!" Clark cried.

            Bruce sighed and looked around, "Kaminski didn't kill them? Some nameless assassin back at the jail did?"

            Michelle backed out of her awe of the situation and suddenly realized that Clark was a witness.

            "You were there?" She walked up to Clark, "You were there and you never told us!?"

            "Believe me, I wanted to! I couldn't!" Clark stepped away from her with hands in the air out on front of him.

            Kaminski observed the situation with a glare, and as usual, he burst into laughter, "Booboo Trap!" he screamed.

            The floor under Michelle collapsed and she fell through screaming, the team attempting to go after her.

            "Better hope those trash dumpsters aren't empty…" Kaminski sang as he danced around chuckling.

            "No!" Bruce yelled, leaping forward and smashing his fist into Kaminski's forehead until it was hard to tell if Bruce's knuckles were bleeding or Kaminski's head was. It was probably a combination of both.

            The helicopter light grew stronger as Clark set aside the emotions and picked up the pilot and heaved her out the big steel door and onto the roof, he dropped her there, hoping a helicopter would notice and pick her up for help.

            "Whether Clark was there or not, you orchestrated the event and killed my parents…whether you pulled the trigger or not!" Bruce yelled as he threw Kaminski against a concrete pillar.

            "Well scoop me up and call me insane!" Kaminski laughed, dancing over and hitting a button on the wall, "Boom Bam Bing Boom!"

            A wall of the clock tower blew out into pieces of dust, the shockwave even blowing back Clark into the blanket of darkness. Bruce held onto another pillar of the room as the cold night wind from outside poured in and helicopters scattered to get a good view of the madness.

            Kaminski knelt down and laughed at the explosion, "I always wanted a room with a view!"

            "I'll give you a view." Bruce soared into Kaminski's back from a giant leap and caused him to go flying forward and sliding across the slick tile toward the burning hole in the wall.

            "Damn you child!" Kaminski hopped up and smiled, "That wasn't a smart idea," he pointed to a news helicopter turned sideways as a camera sat with the door flung open, capturing a perfect view of the events as they occurred live on national television.

            Bruce just waved. He wasn't the one about to get a close-up.


	12. Twelve: Thursday

"Gotham"

_A 'Smallville' fan fiction_

_All characters are owned by DC Comics, Warner Brothers, and their respective partners._

_'Superman' was created by Jerry Siegel and Joe Shuster._

_'Batman' was created by Bob Kane_

Timeframe: The summer between "Vortex" and "Heat" in season two

Disclaimer: I own plenty, but not these characters (not even Kaminski, not yet anyway…)

Rating: PG-13

Author's Note: Instead of having Bruce Wayne come to Smallville, I wanted Clark Kent to come to Gotham. I wanted to re-imagine Batman's origin to a very short extent. You will see many, many of the same things about Batman's past you've always heard. But if you look at it, there is room to grow in the origin of Batman, and since Smallville is all about origins, why not introduce another of the World's Finest? I'm not going to pull a JJ Abrams and make Bruce homosexual, have Alfred be a robot, or the existence of Wayne Enterprises a mere myth. I loved these characters since I was very young, starting with Batman: The Animated Series and with this fiction I am just putting the characters in different places. What if Clark Kent witnessed the murder of Bruce's parents, and who exactly was behind it? I'm only bringing you a "what if?" story that hopefully will entertain and make you happy when it ends.

_Twelve: Thursday_

            The darkness brewing inside Bruce pushed him and filled his eyes with the glow of vengeful adrenaline. The whipping back his gray suit pants and white button up shirt as the border of the gaping hole dropped bits and pieces while it rapidly burned. The flames jumped and the bit of wood fell in bunches of fiery ash.

            He stood before Kaminski, eyeing him, waiting for the final chance. He stepped forward.

            Kaminski chuckled under his breath and stepped sideward, a smile growing across his face.

            Clark hid himself even further into the darkness, suddenly remembering Lex. He crouched down and ran across the floor toward the storage room where Lex would still be lying unconscious, if all had gone to plan…

            "Clock tower tango," Kaminski growled.

            Bruce didn't answer, just another two steps forward. The room was silent, but the sounds of the police cruisers, whirling choppers, and wind whipping the roaring flames made the room as quiet as an Irish bar on Saint Patrick's Day.

            Kaminski reached into his pocket.

            Bruce took a quick step forward and reached out his hand in caution.

            Out of his pocket he pulled a tiny object, shaped like a bat, metallic and only about one inch in size. If the little trinket was any more like a toy it could have been mistaken for a prize from a box of cereal.

            Bruce ran forward and smacked the trinket out of Kaminski's hand and kicked him to the ground. Kaminski flew back and slid near the ledge, the sweat from his palm streaking on the tiles as he struggled to stop himself.

            The trinket bounced away from them and landed belly-side up, causing the little yellow button on its back to be pushed in. Its little wings fluttered and it flew up, zipped past Bruce's head as he stared, startled, at what was happening.

            He jumped and tried to catch it, but he was too late, it flew through the gaping hole and right into the news helicopter that was floating outside. Before the cameraman could blink, the helicopter was turned into a ball of flames as it blew into a thousand pieces.

The explosion caused a huge surge that flung Kaminski, now on fire from the explosion as well, right into Bruce. The two of them tumbled back as the floor where the hole had been blown out was now collapsing from the helicopter's explosion.

            News choppers outside struggled to get a good view of the action, but the inferno crawling up the side of the building caught the fire department's attention, and they were directed to stay far away from any dangerous circumstances until the firemen could get up there.

            Bruce kicked back Kaminski and jumped up, watching Kaminski rolling around on the floor, screaming from pain, attempting to put out the fire that ate at his clothing. Bruce walked over to the kitchen and frantically searched through the cabinets. He opened the pantry and found a wonderful tool, the fire extinguisher.

            Bruce didn't bother with actually using the extinguisher; he just walked over to Kaminski with it in hand and dropped it on the psychopath's foot.

            "Getting hot in here?" Bruce asked, noticing Kaminski had most of the fire out.

            "Go to hell…" Kaminski moaned as he frantically swerved his back around the floor, "I am not one to plug silly rap songs!"

            "You just killed two more innocent people! Congratulations _Gerald!_" Bruce yelled over the blowing wind.

            "Hooray for me, and boohoo for you," Kaminski laughed obnoxiously, cradling his foot and trying to cover the pain.

            And without notice he hopped up on one leg and swung his fist straight into Bruce's nose! Bruce bent back but felt no pain, only a strain of blood streaming from his right nostril. He responded unscathed kicking in Kaminski's knee on his standing leg. Kaminski fell back down and smacked the cold floor yelling, "Stupid little shovel, and obey your owner!"

            The floor crashed and it began to sink from the fiery inferno of the explosion's hole. Bits and pieces rose as it began to sink on a ramp, causing everything in the room to start to slip toward the hole.

            Bruce jumped for a pillar and clenched on, watching as a yellow sofa from the living room area slid over and picked Kaminski up from his resting spot. He was so badly wounded he couldn't fight it, and barely even tried to bother.

            "Get me off here!" Kaminski screamed as the gap between him and Bruce grew larger, but the gap between him and the streets of Gotham grew smaller.

            Bruce jumped off the pillar and jogged behind the sofa, watching every step he took

            "It has been oh so much fun Kaminski, but the picture of you being drug out of here by a couch…too priceless. Face it. 'Former Head of Wayne Enterprises Killed by Yellow Couch in Late Night Brawl' the headlines will read! And no one will feel _any_ pity for you." Bruce stopped and watched as he reached the edge.

            The couch flipped around and smashed Kaminski's broken foot, he screamed of even more pain.

            "No, stop!" he waved his arms around and tried to stop the death trap. But he couldn't and was pushed right to the edge where he flung out and grasped the fiery edge of the hole.

            But the floor broke off. And the couch swung out of the building and came down over his head – forced by the pink chair smashing in behind it. Down they fell, tearing Kaminski away from the fiery ledge and into the openness of the cold summer air. And they fell together for the one hundred or so stories, until they finally met the padding of the hard, black, cement.

            Bruce stood back and watched in amazement. He had finally done what he had set out to do. He was finally pleased, but he couldn't admit to feeling much better. There was still a lot of explaining to do with Lex, and a lot of information to get from Clark.

            The floor slumped down a little more.

            Lex burst through the storage room door with his cell phone to his ear, gasping for breath. Clark followed closely behind him and handed him an ice pack from the freezer.

            "Get the department up here before it all caves," he pressed another few buttons, "Yeah, it's Lex, pull the chopper up to the place where you dropped us."

            Bruce gave Clark a quick look, but Clark shrugged and nodded toward Lex; reminding him not to say anything about the powers or Clark's presence that night.

            Lex clasped his phone shut and turned to Bruce, "The problem gone?"

            "Gone."


	13. Ending Epilogue: Caved

"Gotham"

_A 'Smallville' fan fiction_

_All characters are owned by DC Comics, Warner Brothers, and their respective partners._

_'Superman' was created by Jerry Siegel and Joe Shuster._

_'Batman' was created by Bob Kane_

Timeframe: The summer between "Vortex" and "Heat" in season two

Disclaimer: I own plenty, but not these characters (not even Kaminski, not yet anyway…)

Rating: PG-13

Author's Note: Instead of having Bruce Wayne come to Smallville, I wanted Clark Kent to come to Gotham. I wanted to re-imagine Batman's origin to a very short extent. You will see many, many of the same things about Batman's past you've always heard. But if you look at it, there is room to grow in the origin of Batman, and since Smallville is all about origins, why not introduce another of the World's Finest? I'm not going to pull a JJ Abrams and make Bruce homosexual, have Alfred be a robot, or the existence of Wayne Enterprises a mere myth. I loved these characters since I was very young, starting with Batman: The Animated Series and with this fiction I am just putting the characters in different places. What if Clark Kent witnessed the murder of Bruce's parents, and who exactly was behind it? I'm only bringing you a "what if?" story that hopefully will entertain and make you happy when it ends.

_Epilogue: Caved_

            After the fire in the tower was finally put out Bruce ordered for a full remodel in his expense, and also for private use of the clock tower. He knew he probably wouldn't use it, but he didn't know what the future held.

            On the ride back to the manor Lex was told that a piece of the ceiling had fallen and hit him on the head. He was naturally suspicious, but that was him, and he couldn't remember a thing. At least they had gotten out of the clock tower undetected.

            After the services on Thursday, Clark and Lex left Gotham; leaving everything behind as a secret never to be told. No one in Smallville would ever know, not Clark's parents, no one.

            It didn't rain during the funeral services, a shock to citizens, but it did when Bruce began to look over his parent's possessions that were on display. No one thing touched him more than the journal of his father:

"Not since today has my life ever felt more peaceful yet so hectic. I will deal with this as I have all my life."

            And that was the last thing he ever wrote. It became too much too handle. He nodded to Alfred and hugged all of his family members who were still in attendance, then walked out the backdoor to the rolling fields, now damp from the light rain. The sun painted the sky a reddish tone with a hint of blue peaking in between the gray clouds.

            Then he ran, through the tall grasses, into the flowing property they owned that seemed to go on forever. The rain battered down on him, causing his clothes to feel heavier and heavier – the ground feeling lighter and lighter. Until he neared the cliffs and a piece of the ground gave in.

             He fell for minutes until he finally slammed into the floor of an enormous cave. He laid there for hours, his eyes wide open and lost in thoughts, he was undoubtedly being searched for.

            He thought about what he had said to Clark minutes before he left.

            "Promise not to tell anyone?" Clark had asked, almost in a whimper.

            Bruce had felt secure on that and said, "I won't. But I still haven't heard the full story – "

            But he was cut off by Lex yelling for Clark that the plane was ready. And that was that. Clark left with a wave and a smile, leaving Bruce broken shattered and uninformed behind him. Perhaps one day he would get the full story from Clark.

            He finally awoke from his thoughts as a blurry light from above beamed down on him. He slowly got up and waved, "I'm down here!"

            He looked around and sighed, letting all the air escape from his lungs.

            _Down here would be a good place to start over,_ he thought. And he would.

            He would train down here, build down here.

            He would seek revenge down here.


End file.
